<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>When a Plan Comes Together, part 2 by Buntheridon</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23199046">When a Plan Comes Together, part 2</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buntheridon/pseuds/Buntheridon'>Buntheridon</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Two Sides to Every Tale [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>World of Warcraft</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>But with substitutes, Casual Sex, Continuous story despite the series thingy, Dalaran, Drooling over Sylvanas too, F/M, Horde War Campaign, Light Dom/sub, Mages, Orgrimmar, Pansexual Character, Slow Burn, Smut, Still not getting Nate, Warlock - Freeform, World of Warcraft: Battle for Azeroth, fuck buddies</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 07:09:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,915</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23199046</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buntheridon/pseuds/Buntheridon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Time to face the consequences of shameless flirting! And to find comfort in the company of this guy: https://wow.gamepedia.com/Magister_Krelas</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Blood elf &amp; Void elf (sisters), Krelas (Warcraft)/Original Character(s), Nathanos Blightcaller/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Two Sides to Every Tale [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1647757</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>(A high regard for Nathanos)</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>When a Plan Comes Together, part 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <em> Dread gripping my gut I travelled to Orgrimmar. That consisted of me walking, not riding, up the steps of the Dazar’alor pyramid because I was afraid of getting there. But the portal room was eventually in front of me and I had no choice but to proceed. Walking along the paved road to Grommash Hold felt both the longest and unfortunately the shortest journey I’ve – OK yes, I’ll stop dramatizing now. But I was truly worried out of my wits, I would never want to cross Sylvanas. </em>
</p><p>There she stands, tall and slender, breathtakingly beautiful even in undeath. Her wine-colored hunter’s armor is adorned with feathers and skull motifs, her red glowing eyes very similar to Nathanos’. She’s surrounded by her advisors who she dismisses with a small, graceful gesture when she spots Shalaen at the door. The Banshee Queen, the Warchief of the Horde studies her from head to nervously curling toes, a small knowing smile rising on her dark lips.</p><p>“You must be Shalaen. Come forward, hero.”</p><p>She obeys, trying to hold her head high, trying to hide her trembling. If this is the end she will face it standing up. Sylvanas’ eerily echoing, alluring voice both terrifies and, not surprisingly, tickles her senses in a manner not too dissimilar to what her Dark Ranger Lord does to her.</p><p>“Nathan has been updating me on your progress ...among other things. You embody the best of the Horde, champion. The Alliance will tremble before our might.” Sylvanas’ eyes stay on hers and she fights the urge to look away, finding a short relief in bowing before her.</p><p>“Thank you, Dark Lady.”</p><p>“That’s curious. Most heroes prefer the title Warchief. You are not a Forsaken, warlock.”</p><p>She lifts her head. “Forgive me, Warchief. I have spent much time among them recently. I am used to calling you by an even older title, but it might raise painful memories if it slipped my tongue. I too was in Silvermoon when it… fell.”</p><p>Sylvanas tilts her head, considering. “Yes, he mentioned that. I don’t recall ever meeting you but then again, a lot of things have happened since. You survived that, and now you’ve excelled in our campaign against Kul Tiras. Not all soldiers stomach the horrors you’ve gone through. You seem to have a genuine taste for war… and the same taste in men as I did.”</p><p>Shalaen nearly jumps out of her skin, feeling how blood drains off her face. <em> He really told her about it. </em> Sylvanas motions her to follow and walks up the steps to sit on the throne. Watching her swaying hips before her gives enough distraction for the blood elf to regain her composure. She kneels before the throne like is customary, waiting for her sentence.</p><p>For a long moment the Dark Lady only watches her, leaning her cheek on her palm in a manner that spells indifference, yet her eyes tell otherwise. Her voice is low and quiet when she speaks.</p><p>“He could have chosen much worse, I guess.” She reaches towards the warlock who tries not to flinch, and touches her hair, the same color as hers was when she was alive. A smirk passes on the Warchief’s otherwise expressionless face. “I didn’t know his body was <em> that </em>well restored.” </p><p>She straightens in the huge chair and flicks her wrist in a dismissive manner.</p><p>“We will meet soon, champion.”</p><p>Shalaen walks backwards, head spinning with all the impossible things that have just happened, bows deep and leaves the Hold, forcing her feet to walk slowly so as not to lose face in front of her Queen.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>****</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Void help me! That’s incredible! She just – she sort of –“</p><p>“Gave me a permission to shag her guy. Yeah. At least that’s what it sounded like. My mind is blown. I’m not sure I remember everything correctly anymore.”</p><p>“So did you go straight back to bonetown?”</p><p>“Ugh, no. I was so confused and exhausted of all the stress that I sent an Arcane mail to Krelas. I had wanted to catch up with him for a long time and you were busy – I needed someone to talk to immediately.”</p><p>“Oh, nice. Did he answer?”</p><p>“Yeah, as a matter of fact he was in Dalaran and the portal room was right there, so…”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>****</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>The enchanted floating city of high towers, beautiful streets, endless secret nooks and all in all way too many mages opens before her eyes when she materializes there. Shalaen hasn’t visited the place much since the Legion was vanquished for the last time and she isn’t sure why – it’s beautiful and nowadays peaceful here. </p><p>Her friend is waiting for her in the street near the portals. He is an elf like her and served under her command in the campaign against the Iron Horde in the alternative Draenor but she’s never been sure of his deepest affiliations – he pledges himself to Khadgar and the Kirin Tor even though the Horde was banished from the mage city for a time. He’s from Quel’Thalas by the look of him but she’s not sure about his age. Probably older than her. He might even count himself more a quel’dorei than a sin’dorei, they’ve never really talked about that even though they talked a lot and still do in writing. Those two years they worked together were spent fighting the ogres and the arakkoa and the hostile orcs – and occasionally between the sheets. That sort of combination of activities knits two people really close even if they don’t share every detail of their past.</p><p>“Commander! So good to see you!” His handsome face is beaming with a smile so warm it puts Shalaen’s soul at ease immediately. She really needs a friend now, and a hug which she gets when she reaches the blond magister.</p><p>“Don’t call me that anymore, silly. How have you been? Or should I ask, in which world have you lived recently?” She stays in his embrace for a moment longer, smiling up to his friendly, twinkling eyes.</p><p>“I’ve been trying to make sense of what’s going on in this one, actually. I think I’ll stay here. Khadgar left me in charge of his Talador tower but I soon got tired of that drudgery and gave the position to someone else.” He starts walking towards the Violet Citadel, his hand resting on the small of her back. “Let’s go to my rooms, shall we? You have something weighing on you, my lady, I can tell.”</p><p>Krelas lives in a comfortable, small room in one of the high towers of the Citadel. Shalaen has a hunch there are an infinite number of lodgings like these, magically made to look like they fit in this one city but actually are in some pocket dimension or some such weird solution. After explaining the background of her situation and the most recent events she exhales, leaning on the sofa pillows beside her friend.</p><p>“Incredible developments, indeed! You say the temporary lovers don’t quench your thirst at all?” His lopsided smile is both warm and extremely flirtatious, and he flips his blond top ponytail back in a manner that makes her laugh, self-aware and self-ironic.</p><p>“No, they do, but only for a short while. Oh Light, I can’t be <em> in love, </em> can I? That would be ridiculous. I mean if it’s monogamous.”</p><p>“Truly. Now, let me think. You’ve had two not-so-dark guys who weren’t even human. My elf ass won’t help you one bit if your preferences now lean towards dark or human or moustached or dead. The darkest you can get with me are the burned remains of my enemies and who wants to shag a heap of charcoal, I ask you.” Shalaen laughs again, his familiar humor making her feel comfortable and relaxed despite the drama she just went through. Leaning her head against his shoulder she feels at home.</p><p>“I wonder how he explained me to Sylvanas. <em> There’s this maniac who wants my corpse? Darling, do you mind if I take a pet?” </em></p><p>
  <em> “My Queen, I have detected signs of life in my pants.” </em>
</p><p>She giggles. “Aaah, don’t! I have no idea if he even… yeah.”</p><p>“But you are open to anything, I notice. What if he’s into whipping you unconscious or testing your lava breathing abilities?”</p><p>“Oh you incorrigible fire fanatic, dip <em> yourself </em> into a volcano if that turns you on! Working under Sylvanas must be humbling for a man of his temper. I’m offering him a chance to relieve that frustration and stress in a very playful manner.”</p><p>“Does he know this?” Krelas idly massages her scalp through her hair and she nestles against him some more.</p><p>“I… think so. But it might take a while to lure him in, if it’s even going to happen at all.”</p><p>“It might be sooner than you think. The Queen’s words sounded like he had expressed his interest plainly.”</p><p>“I’m not sure about that.”</p><p>“Hmm. If a dark human – with a twist – is what you’re essentially after… shouldn’t you try to find substitutes that resemble him?”</p><p>“Are there any? He’s quite unique. I don’t have the Alliance to pick and choose from like my sister.”</p><p>“What about his rangers?” He grins.</p><p>“Oh you bad, bad boy. You know they are all… extremely dark, cold and ruthless. <em> Yes.” </em> Shalaen feels the heat in her loins agree thinking of that one slender, white-haired dark ranger who’s always stationed at the ship. Her name was Aline, wasn’t it?</p><p>Krelas feels her mood peak and turns towards her. “Keep that fire lit, darling. I’ll help you ignite and explode if you accept my fair hair and relatively hairless, living face.”</p><p>“Oh, stars, yes. Please.”</p><p>He pulls her lying on the divan, crawling over her. Being freshly briefed of her new tastes he locks her wrists above her head and bites under her ear, whispering. </p><p><em> “What I’m wondering, though… would you have wanted the Queen to punish you instead?” </em>Her gasp answers him quite clearly. He chuckles, nipping the shell of her elven ear, his long hair falling on her cheek.</p><p><em> “Or… both of them.” </em> </p><p>That shatters the last remaining bits of her self-control and propels her into frenzied heat. Her hips buckle up and the magister is there, ready to push her down with his thigh. He’s always been very flexible and eager to try out new things without prejudice, and Shalaen feels he’s getting into the boss mode easily.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>****</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Ohh, he’s so <em> yummy! </em> I remember my follower in Talador was some grumpy orc guy. So unfair.”</p><p>“I’m sure you’ve found your share of companions, Loreina. And you have humans now!”</p><p>“Yeah but… uh, you don’t even want the blond ones anymore and you still hoard them.”</p><p>“Are you still mad about the bard? Sorry about that. He just happened to be there.”</p><p>“Nah, I’m only half serious. Go on, what did you do then?”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>****</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“Close your eyes”, Krelas demands. She does so, feeling his Arcane spell poking at her mind. “Show me.”</p><p>Shalaen opens her mind, accepting the magic to project her thoughts in a visual way for the mage to see. There’s Sylvanas, beautiful and ethereal, holding a whip. Her imaginary Nathanos is clothed in a tuxedo shirt and tight pants which reveal that, at least in her fantasies, he does possess the ability to get hard. He’s about to undress.</p><p>“Oh, he is indeed a unique specimen. Is that your knowledge or a hopeful guess bulging in his breeches?”</p><p>“I haven’t verified it yet, sadly. I hope you can provide me with the missing piece in this scenario.” </p><p>He answers her by pressing himself against her, pressing his clothed erection on her sensitive mound. She moans, a blissful smile spreading on her face. </p><p>“Yess… go on.”</p><p><em> “You are not the one giving orders today, Speaker of the Horde”, </em>he plays the role, not having heard Nathanos’ voice and not really succeeding in guessing the tone correctly, but she giggles, testing his grip on her wrists. It holds and she loves it.</p><p>“You were never like this in Draenor, commander. I think you’ve lost your command to someone more dominating.” He pushes against her again and she gasps. She’s so close it aches.</p><p>“I think he – could be, but as her subordinate he – <em> ahh </em> – cannot really free that side of himself completely.”</p><p>“Hah! You were never a philanthropist either, love. And now you are planning on helping someone to find their inner self? The times! Soon you’ll be releasing your demon servants and taming a battle dog, mark my words.”</p><p>Her bubbling laughter turns into a moan when Krelas grinds against her one more time, enough to push her near but still not over the threshold. Then he sits up and starts sliding his touch from her ankles to her thighs, pushing her robes up in the process. Her freed hands grab his hem and together they maneuver their clothes off. She marvels his familiar virility and he clicks his tongue at her.</p><p>“Keep those eyes closed. I can do nothing to my body heat, I’m too far into the Fire specialization as you well know. But otherwise, if you can, think of him and let me be the pilot.”</p><p>“You are such a good friend.”</p><p>“The pleasure is mine.” He places his palm over her eyes urging her to close them. He pushes her lying down and Shalaen feels him bind her wrists together with a ribbon attaching it somewhere above her head. She falls into the wonderful state she has merely tasted before, of helplessness and throbbing relaxation, even if that sounds contradictory when said out loud. His fingers, light, gentle and hot, slide over her skin, between her breasts, over her abdomen, ending on her damp netherweave panties. The gentleness is cut abruptly by the sound and feel of tearing cloth when he rips them off her by force. That matches the enraged face of the Blightcaller in her mind’s eye and she yelps, enraptured, succumbing into her vision.</p><p>His hand between her thighs encourages her to spread them and she feels him settle between them, pulling her knees up. Knowing how ready she is he enters her slowly, stretching her soft walls with his perfect girth. When his fingers caress up her neck the same time she’s plunged deeper into the trance. By the time he’s hilt deep inside her the hand has reached her throat, gently wrapped around it, roleplaying but not really strangling. Krelas leaves the real combat to the man of her dreams. And it’s quite enough to make her lose her mind in heat. Her quick pulse taps against his fingers.</p><p>He starts moving slowly, his thrusts gaining momentum by the urging of her gasps and whines and snapping hips. It feels so good, the familiarity of her lover and the thrill of their play a fantastic combination.</p><p><em> “You know what – your Warchief should be doing – meanwhile?” </em> He whispers breathlessly, catching her lower lip between his teeth, their joined skin sweaty and hot. He’s pounding fast now, the wet sounds of flesh and their gasps filling the quiet room. Her wrists tug against the binds, she’s nearly there and <em> oh, </em> the mental image of Sylvanas is too much, she was so intimidating, the sway of her hips so alluring, her echoing voice beyond the grave –</p><p>
  <em> “She should whip him, not you, while he–” </em>
</p><p>His words are interrupted by Shalaen’s hoarse cry and the magister is swept along the ride of her climax, a delicious dive into the void of pleasure, the vision he prompted clear in her mind. Pulsating against, and with, his obliging cock she reaches exquisite – if possibly very temporary – satisfaction.</p><p>Later they move to his bed and lie there for hours, sipping arcwine and talking and laughing until they fall asleep in each other’s arms.</p><p>The next day Shalaen gets Loreina’s reply and heads to meet her in Tiragarde Sound, in the enemy territories once more. Riding through the zone a quest activates in her goblin earpiece like she hoped would happen.</p><p>
  <em> “The Warchief has laid claim to all resources in this area. Take what is ours.” </em>
</p><p>She’s faster in finishing the task than last time. </p><p><em> “Mission complete, I take it?” </em> The click in her ear signals that the channel is now open two-way.</p><p>“Yes, my lord. And I’m still alive.” She’s not talking about the quest.</p><p>Nathanos chuckles, recognizing her. <em> “I wouldn’t send the champion of the Horde into a situation she couldn’t handle.” </em></p><p>“That I doubt very much, I have a hunch the Champion of the Banshee Queen enjoys inflicting agony.”</p><p>
  <em> “That depends entirely on the target. Some get off easier.” </em>
</p><p>She nearly slips something about how and with what mental image she <em> got off </em> last night but stops her enthusiasm in time. “The lucky few.”</p><p>His voice is almost flirtatious when he returns to business. <em> “I shall report your success to the Warchief.” </em></p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>****</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“And then I came here. He might still be in this zone.” Shalaen grins, slightly tipsy of all the rum she has consumed during the recounting of her tale.</p><p>“That does sound like you’ll be getting your dead meat very soon.”</p><p>“Oh, fuck off! His fingers work, very nimbly might I add, and so does his tongue. I don’t see why he wouldn’t be fully functional. Might just be that the undeath makes one forget.”</p><p>“Or not care in the slightest.”</p><p>“Just you wait. I will keep you posted.” They hug and agree to meet in Zandalar next time.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>